Nothing can be more imposing than the magnificence of English park scenery. Vast lawns that extend like sheets of vivid green， with here and there clumps of gigantic trees， heaping up rich piles of foliage. the solemn pomp of groves and woodland glades， with the deer trooping in silent herds across them； the hare， bounding away to the covert； or the pheasant， suddenly bursting upon the wing； the brook， taught to wind in natural meanderings or expand into a glassy lake—the sequestered pool， reflecting the quivering trees， with the yellow leaf sleeping on its bosom， and the trout roaming fearlessly about its limpid waters； while some rustic temple or sylvan statue， grown green and dank with age， gives an air of classic sanctity to the seclusion.